


You've Gone and Let Somebody In (And They Might Fade Away)

by annegirlblythe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Draco-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epistolary, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, M/M, i'm a disgusting Malfoy apolgist, sort of, two sides of the same coin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annegirlblythe/pseuds/annegirlblythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither Dudley Dursley nor Draco Malfoy asked to be involved in this war. But a friend to get them through it? Both needed one, even in the form of the enemy. </p>
<p>Title from the song I Know Why by Sheryl Crow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You've Gone and Let Somebody In (And They Might Fade Away)

The second floor girls lavatory is wet and cold, and if Draco Malfoy had anyone else in the world to talk to, he’d be far away from here.

 “What that?” Moaning Myrtle asks, looking up from her tears as Draco enters the cursed bathroom, holding several sheets of lined paper.

 “Three pages worth of dirt on Potter,” he answers dully, locking the door with his wand and taking a seat on the edge of the sink.

 “What?” Myrtle asks, trying to figure out the disconnect between Draco’s words and his tone. Shouldn’t he be excited?

 "I got into the school records and wrote a letter home to his family, pretending to be his friend, you know? Like you said. I thought I’d get some dirt on him, maybe even the details of the thing from the beginning of last year, you know? The flying car thing? I wanted something to do because I was bored." He sighs, leaning his head back. Third year is positively _stifling_.

 "That's actually kind of low, even for you,” Myrtle replies with a giggle. “Though I'm positively _dying_ to know what the response says."

 "I know it was low. I was bored. That thing with that disgusting animal was over and no one was taking bait. Anyway, I got this letter back: three pages of awful, terrible things he'd done. Potter, I mean. I'm pretty sure most of them were bullshit, like most of the stuff people say about him, anyway, whatever. The letter ended with 'don't write here again, my father will kill me.'"

 "So...why haven't we seen this supposed letter? You _are_ going to _use_ it, right?" She looms closer, tears apparently forgotten. A sudden choking loneliness makes Draco shiver. _I’m here talking to the ghost in the girl’s lav because my friends are too shallow to understand...what, exactly?_

 "No. I'm not going to use it,” he answers with a sigh.

 "Why not?"

 "Because I _felt_ this kid. He was so... I don't know, I just felt this connection with him. Probably because of that last line, but I don't know. Something ABOUT him."

 "Have you written again? Are you going to? You should.”

 "I'm trying to figure out a way to do it discreetly. The thing is, though, if /my/ father found out, he'd kill me, too."

 "He'd do a lot more than kill you. You'd be disowned, dismembered and banished to a desert island to bleed out your last hours alone. I knew him, you know, while he was at school. Mean bloke. Despised me for being muggleborn, you know. Imagine his own son! Consorting with a muggle!" She giggles, murderously.

 “Yeah, yeah. I’ve gotta go to Charms, Myr, keep this under wraps, okay?”

 “Okie dokie!”

 “I’m serious.”

 “I know.”

  
***

 

A few days after he’d told his friend about the letter Draco is lying on his four-poster, playing with a Snitch he’d nicked from the Hufflepuff practice set earlier. A tapping at the window makes him look up.

 

An unfamiliar owl hovers outside. Draco _tries_ to remember the spell Blaise had taught him for opening things, but ends up unlatching the window himself.

 

The owl, a tall tawny one with crazy eyebrows, flies in and lands on Draco’s side table. “Is that for me?” Draco asks hopefully. Everything around here was so _boring_ lately.

 

The owl makes a soft trill, and the Slytherin sets about untying the letter. On the back, it read in messy scrawl of something other than ink, which was by now incredibly familiar to Draco after the inordinate amount of times he’d read his most recent letter:

 

_D.D._

_Number 12, Wisteria Walk_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

 

With the trembling fingers that came with a well-trained child’s breaking the rules, Draco opens the letter.

 

_Draco,_

_I found a place to write to you from. I had to badger my parents for a few days...which is nothing new. The woman who lives up the street calls herself a “Squib” and let me use her owl. Why do you guys use owls anyway? The post system seems much more convenient...and less_ feathery. _The damn things hate me._

_I can’t think why I’d want to write to you in the first place, except maybe to prove to myself that I don’t have my dad’s prejudice. He hates you, and every one of your kind. My mum doesn’t- she’s only scared, I think. Her sister was one of you. She doesn’t want what happened to her to happen to me or my dad. (I don’t know what happened to her. I’m not really allowed to ask questions about your world. It’s unnatural, you know.)_

_I want to know about your world, though. I can’t ask my cousin. You’re not really Harry’s friend, are you? You’re his rival, I supose. Don’t tell him I wrote back to you._

_Listen, whether or not you want to write back, I’ll understand. Please write to the address on the return. I can’t get owls at home._

_Dudley_

The danger of the situation is not lost on Draco, whose curiosity fights it out with his ingrained Pureblood obedience. He waits a week or two, and a after a few discussions with Myrtle, who’s always eager for new gossip, finally pens a short return letter, using one of the Owlery’s less conspicuous owls, rather than his own regal tawny one.

 

_Dudley,_

 

_Your secret is safe with me. Potter is the most obnoxious, foolish, sloppy, arrogant, bullheaded, Dumbledore-loving blood traitor I’ve ever met. I suppose my reasoning is the same. My father and every single person who hasn’t been_ burned _off my family tree hates your kind as well. My prejudices can’t be as bad, can they? I mean...you seem cool._

_I’ve been taught not to want anything to do with your world, that it’s stupid and backward. Maybe you can prove them wrong for me._

_I’m going to beat Potter in our Quidditch match next week. Quidditch is our sport, and it’s fantastic. Basically,  it’s played in the air on broomstick. (I have a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, which is the fastest racing broom on the market!) Three chasers are after the Quaffle, trying to get it past the Keeper into the rings for ten points, but I have the most important job. I’m the Seeker, and I have to catch the tiny, winged Golden Snitch to win the game. I’m really good. Youngest Seeker my House has had in seventy years, which - contrary to popular belief - down to raw talent. I spent my whole childhood in lessons._

_I’ve heard that you guys play sports, too? One of the Gryffindor idiots in class with Potter and Weasley talks incessantly about one of them...football, maybe?_

_I just described Potter as a blood traitor. But what does this letter make_ me?

 

_Draco_

  


_Draco,_

 

_I don’t know what that makes you. What’s a blood traitor? As for the rest of it, I can’t disagree. Isn’t he famous or something in your world, though? What’d he even do?_

_Oh, our sports are fantastic. I’m a wrestler and a boxer, but the real pride and joy of England is football. Different cities have teams, and I root for Arsenal, from Holloway, most of the time. It’s not played on broomstick, just down on the ground, in teams of eleven guys who are all trying to get the ball through the goal. It’s fun to watch._

_How old are you? I’m fourteen. I’ve had the same group of friends since I was six. I don’t have any more. New ones, I mean. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this, really._

_Mrs. Figg says your family is Trouble. Is that true?_

 

_Dudley_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

_Trouble, huh? My family is one of the oldest pureblood wizarding families still around! Our crest is...._

 

The friendship stays light for a few years, and they fall into a steady pattern of writing back and forth. Sometimes the letters are routine, things they would talk about with their school friends.

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I returned to my room last night (this morning, actually) after a long midnight astronomy lesson, wanting nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for an age. I slid the covers back, though, and laid down....only to have my feet touch something woolly and disgusting I was sure had to be alive. I yanked back the coverlet... There, if you can believe it, lay a dozen knobby woolen hats._

_Why they were there, or whether the person meant well or not, I shall never know. (I was just glad it wasn't a kneazle!)_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_Do wizards have poetry? I have never liked having to read poetry before but I read one today that I loved. I copied it out for you below. It’s by this author named Sylvia Plath, who was crazy._

 

The first few letters are shaky, and scared. They start with nothing but a common need to break the barriers that have been set for them. But slowly, through a few letters a week, they start to see parts of each other no one has ever seen before. Fears and hopes they'd never dare share with anyone else, come across in these letters, though they've never actually seen each other face and to face and know they never will. This opens up an opportunity for intimacy neither of them have with anyone else.

 

_Dear Draco,_

_I hate the sight of blood, even though I am a boxer and my job is get the other guy to bleed._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I had this dream after my last Divination class about the Dark Lord coming back. I mean. It’s not possible, of course it’s not possible. He’s gone._

_The Dark Lord was..._

 

It's so easy to keep the more unpleasant parts of themselves out of the letters. Dudley reads his over a thousand times for spelling mistakes and tries not to sound like too much of a bully. He paints himself in a fairly positive light, and tries his best to sound smarter than he is. Draco tries not to sound like too much of a snob, a bully, or a mama's boy, which he knows he does anyway.  

 

They learn about each other's worlds, too and try hard to unlearn their own prejudices. They teach other big things, about social structures and history and government and the most they can understand about their own worlds. At the age of fourteen, it’s hard to summarize the hierarchy of government to someone with no prior experience in your country, but they try.

 

Little things like math, the postal service, batteries and video games, as well as potions, hippogriffs, Mudbloods and the Triwizard Tournament are easier to explain.

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Myrtle says I shouldn’t say things about the more sensitive topics of your world. What are Muggles sensitive about? What should avoid asking you about?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_The entire point of this is to learn each other’s worlds, right? Ask me whatever you want to know. If I’m offended, I’ll get over it. I’ve asked you enough impertinent (vocabulary is highly important -_ imperative - _at Smeltings!) questions._

 

Inevitably, their real personalities slip out occasionally, as do their ingrained contempt for the other's world, but that’s only to be expected. They secretly covet each other’s faults.

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_The last time I smiled so hugely over a letter was the time my mother told me that our obnoxious House-Elf was let go. Did you_ _really_ _beat up a_ _ten-year old_ _? Why? What prompted you to do that?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_“Just wait until my father hears about this”? You actually said that? Out loud? How do you have FRIENDS?_

 

As a natural consequence of living such a double life, Dudley occasionally lets something slip about the wizarding world that he shouldn't know (“That cat looked like a kneazle!”), and blames it on Harry’s sleeptalking. If the boy’s home at the time, he gets in a lot of trouble, sometimes locked in his room for days without food. Dudley knows it's his fault, so sometimes in the middle of the night, when he's sure Harry's asleep, he slips some food in through the dogflap in the door.

 

Though he's certain Draco would get a kick out of the flap, he never says anything. Funny, he spends his days searching for things to tell his best friend, and the one thing he knows would absolutely thrill him, he says nothing. Loyalty to his cousin? Or protecting the view of his family? Telling the funny part about the flap would require an account of the years of what Dudley was newly self-aware enough to recognize as abuse. He wasn't ready for his best friend to see him this way.

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_Do you ever let slip something you shouldn’t know? Mention football or television or blue jeans? Does anyone ever notice? I mentioned what you told me about pewter cauldrons the other night at the dinner table by accident and my mother almost burned the house down._

 

 

When Voldemort returns, and the conflict in the Wizarding world brews, the letters get darker in tone. Both worlds are upset by the onset of war, and neither boy has anyone else to speak to about the horrors about to be unleashed.

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_He’s back. My father was summoned by his Mark, and he’s back. They - the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle, known by the rest of the wizarding world as “Death Eaters” were all summoned by the Marks on their arms to a graveyard last night. The loyal ones, like my father and Professor Snape, answered the call. Those who did not are already dead, I’m sure._

_The Dark Lord was resurrected, I guess, into a new body. My father is scared and excited, but Mother is downright terrified. I always thought I’d think it wonderful if came back but now I’m realizing I don’t like it at all._

_His “reign of terror” ended when I was a baby, but he killed an innocent kid last night - the other Hogwarts Triwizard Champion, Cedric Diggory. And I only know what Father told me, though, I wasn’t there. I’m sure more will come out._

_There will very likely be another war between his side and the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore’s resistance to The Dark Lord’s plan to rid the world of Muggles and Mudbloods. Half the Wizarding World was lost to the last war. I’m not ready for this._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I wish it wasn’t the beginning of the summer so we’d have more time to talk it over, but we can do that in September. For now, though, please promise you’ll keep your head down? I don’t want you to get killed with your big mouth. (I just don’t think anyone else is going tell you to be careful.)_

_This Dark Lord thing sounds terrifying. Did you know he (it?) was coming back? You said he_ _died_ _, right? How is he back, then? How are people reacting? Will people go after him? What about the authorities? How will this affect you?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_This is the last letter of the school year, and I only have a few minutes before I have to leave for the train, but I’ll try and answer your questions._

_None of us knew. Some of the Inner Circle are claiming to have known, but for the most part, we thought he was gone for good. I don’t know how it happened._

_The world at large won’t be doing much for quite a while, since the only other person who saw the events in the graveyard was Potter... It’s his word against anyone else’s, and I don’t know how long his will hold._

_As for me...I will probably be indoctrinated into the Inner Circle when I turn 17, and have to work for the Dark Lord, but a lot can change in two years. We’ll see what happens._

_I will work on keeping my head down (thank you, my friend). Keep yourself safe this summer....I’m sure things will be lurking in your world as well as mine._

_Until September._

 

_Dear Draco,_

_I know I’m not supposed to write during the summer, but I needed to talk to you. I was attacked by something my mum calls a Dementor. It took everything inside of me. I haven’t been properly happy...or felt much of anything since the “attack.”_

_It was out in Little Whinging and if Harry hadn’t pulled out his wand in time, who knows what would have happened to me. As it is, you wouldn't believe the things things I saw. I’m a HORRIBLE person, Draco. I’m a horrible person. I beat people up and I laugh and I abuse my cousin and I laugh and I berate your world in front of my father and -- how come no one ever told me what a sack of shit I am?_

_It was like something was sucking everything good out of me and leaving me with a shell. I’m terrified._

_Please, I know it’s dangerous, but please write back. I need to hear some sense. I need to know there’s something in the world that has survived this._

_PS Harry got in trouble for fighting it off. That law doesn’t make any sense._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I’m horrified that a Dementor ended up in your world, but I’m glad you’re okay. You’re not a horrible person. A horrible person wouldn't keep listening to me whinge on. This is how you’re supposed to feel, I promise. Dementors take all of your happiness, they feed on it._

_I hate them. I hate what they did to you, and what they do to me. But it’s normal, don’t worry. You’ll feel better in a couple weeks. (Chocolate often helps, I’m told.)_

_I don’t have time to write much more, we’re in danger as it is, but hang tight. You’re going to be fine._

  
***

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_It’s September again, and I look forward to hearing all about your summer. Any news on the Dark Lord thing?_

_The Dementor attack has only made me feel worse...every time I open my mouth to hurt someone, or think about raising my fists, the Dementor comes back to me. I can’t do it anymore. I can feel myself getting quieter, drawing in, losing the respect of my friends... My mum wants to take me to a psychiatrist, but who’s going to understand this, besides you?_

_Harry didn't get kicked out of your school, which is probably good. I don't know how I'm going to face him, now, knowing what I've been doing for years._ _You probably haven’t read the Narnia books, but perhaps this is my week as a dragon._

_Did you end up going on the Durmstrang tour?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Please please PLEASE explain the bit about the dragon._

_You’re not losing_ _my_ _respect, I’m sure you’ll be back to normal soon. (And if you’re not...is this new Dudley really all that bad?)_

_The package attached is some Honeydukes chocolate, it’s the best candy store in Hogsmeade. I had a teacher once who said it’s the best cure for a Dementor attack. I mean, I know it’s been weeks, but I thought it might help._

_The summer was...tense. Everyone is scared to make a move, and Mother wrote more letters than usual to her sister in Azkaban. Father continued to work, and to suck up to the Minister, who dined with us a few times, and refuses to acknowledge the return of the Dark Lord. I don’t think I understand politics._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_The dragon thing: There are these children’s books called the Narnia books, and there’s this kid named Eustace. His turning point from being a whiny little bitch into a hero was when he got turned into a dragon for a week. It changed his perspective. I was wondering if perhaps this attack is my turning point._

_Thank you for the chocolate, and for listening. Really. You’re the only one who is even remotely in the realm of understanding this. That was the only thing I’ve eaten that’s tasted of anything but cardboard in weeks. Incidentally, I’m dropping weight like mad. (Sometimes running is the only thing that can make the screaming in my head stop.)_

_What is the Order of the Pheonix up to? They’re the people that took Harry for the rest of the summer, right?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

  


_No official news on the Order. Only the gossip I’ve gleaned from my parents, and what my friends have gleaned from theirs. Potter did return to school after the trial. Just my fucking luck._

_A funny thing is happening at school. Only the Slytherin children of the Dark Lord’s own supporters, and Potter’s friends and admirers are acknowledging that he’s back. What polar opposite groups to believe something so counter to what everyone else wants to badly to ignore._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I’m scared, too. Even_ _my_ _world is falling apart at the seams. I can tell from the news. Harry and I know that it’s your world, but Dad keeps saying it’s gangs. His blindness has GOT to be intentional._

_Speaking of which, ought we to use code names? In case any of this is intercepted? I could be Eustace Scrubb, and you could be Jill Pole. Everyone else would have to have one too._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_All the letters you’ve ever sent me are in a box in my room of lost things, which is a room at Hogwarts I’m sure only I know about, with stuff people have lost, or left there. I sneak away to explore inside it sometimes. Anyway, the letters are there, and they’re charmed so if anyone else picks them up, they’d only see gibberish. I put a spell-lock on it that’s pretty secure. The letters I send you are all charmed the same way. If your mother - or god forbid, your nosy-arse cousin - should ever come across them, they wouldn’t be able to read them._

_By the way, Due to a spectacular bit of Seeking, I almost singlehandedly beat Ravenclaw at Quidditch today! Enclosed is my spoil of war...the Golden Snitch. I know you’ve been dying to see one. (You should have SEEN my Wronski Feint against that idiot Chang! I was spectacular.)_

 

_Dear Draco,_

_Lucky shit. I’ve been doing nothing but MATH recently. (If I fail again, I might not graduate!) You’re so lucky you don’t have to do math. I mean, look at this shit. Ridiculous, isn’t it?_

 

_x^3+5x^2+26x+24_

_(x+2)(x+3)(x+4)=0_

 

_You HAVE to teach me to fly. All your subjects sound like much more fun. Although I do like my Civics class this year. We’re learning about the government. I wonder how similar it is to yours. (For example, did you know England never wrote a Constitution? Our code of law has just...evolved. It’s weird.)_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_What do you mean, not graduate? Math looks pretty bad, though. I don’t understand any of that.What is it used for? Why would anyone want to use numbers that way?_

_Our evolved, too, I think, and it’s called something different. We have an appointed Minister and sects of governance that do different things all under Ministry business. (Like the Department of Transport, Department of Mysteries, Department of Magical Games and Sports, things like that. The heads are all terrible bores. My father works in the Justice Department...he sees some interesting things.)_

_Not all of our subjects are interesting. I have to take Divination this year, which is a load of shit taught by the school’s resident crack job..._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I don’t know what the education system is like beyond Hogwarts, but here, if you do well at school, you go on to university and the degree you earn there helps you get a good job. Don’t ask me how, but that’s how it works. My parents are counting on me to succeed. I’m looking at the University of London for college, especially if I can get a boxing scholarship, but I have to get my grades up first._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Shit hit the fan last night at the Ministry of Magic. Long story short, my father is in Azkaban, the Dark Lord is furious, and my mother and I are going to bear the brunt of his rage. This is not good. This is not good at all._

_I don’t know how they caught him, but they did. I don’t know how long he’ll be in prison with the bloody fucking dementors before the Dark Lord gets him out, but I do know that this isn’t good for anyone._

_War is brewing and my family is only the wrong side. I’m supposed to be initiated into the Death Eaters soon. I don’t want to. I don’t want to die. I’m supposed to be braver than this, I’m supposed to be so devoted to the Dark Lord that the thought of death is less than the thought of the cause...._

_I’m falling apart._

 

_Draco_

 

_PS: The battle of the Ministry will do one good thing, at least. People will hopefully wake up and stop denying that he’s back. Of course bloody POTTER got to be there for the battle and I bloody didn’t! I’ll update you more on what happened as I glean more from my mother._

 

_Draco,_

 

_I hate not being able to write to you during the summers. The package attached is called a Gameboy, and there’s a couple of games there you just slide into the slot on the back to play. I hope it works to distract you this summer. (See if you can beat my high scores!)_

_There’s some directions, too, and I highlighted the important parts. I read in that book you sent me that an electronic device like video game wouldn’t work at school, but it should give you something to do other than worry at home._

_Good luck this summer. Don’t do anything stupid. I have to put all your letters away because Harry gets home tomorrow and he’s the nosiest shit... I’ll miss you._

_Dudley_

_PS: If I can get my hands on Harry’s copies of The Daily Prophet, I will._

 

  ***

 

Because they can’t write during the summers, Dudley and Draco spend the eight weeks following the Ministry battle in constant panic. Draco’s home is becoming the center for all the Death Eaters and for Voldemort himself, and he eavesdrops on a lot of important conversations, learning a ton of things he wishes he could share with Dudley, but his home is entirely unsafe. Accomplished Legilimens are everywhere, and his mother seems to be omnipresent. Meanwhile, Dudley watches the news and prays that none of the disasters the anchors and his father are blaming on gangs are affecting Draco.

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I’ve been keeping a list of things to tell you about this summer. Here are some of the top items._

 

__My father was sent to prison. The Dark Lord assures us all that it is only a matter of time before the Dementors are all on our side and release him, but for now... He’s locked on an island with a bunch of Dementors. My father. Can you imagine being around those things full time? I’m so scared for him._ _

  * _The Dark Lord set up residence at the Manor. I only saw him a few times, but the Inner Circle was in and out all summer. I listened to everything I could. They don’t seem to think I’m smart enough to pick things up._


  * _I was branded with his Mark. I’ve taken my father’s place. I don’t know what that means yet, but my mother seems to think it’s terrifying as hell. (I have this weird almost double-consciousness now, like I’m sort of aware of what’s going on with our Master even while I’m just on the train or something. It’s worrying me. I thought it was because I was so close to him all summer.)_


  * _My aunt Bellatrix is the craziest woman alive. Honestly. She scares the crap out of me. (No wonder they had her locked up.) Apparently, she never killed anyone during the whole war, just tortured them until they went insane. Some of her victims are still alive...vegetables! It’s no wonder she’s in the Inner Circle, but how the hell she’s related to my mum is beyond me._


  * _Professor Snape got the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position he’s been wanting. I mean, FINALLY! There’ll be something real going on in that class._


  * _I beat your high score at both of the Spiderman games. I liked those. The space ones were harder to figure out. Here’s your gameboy back. Thanks for the loan. I thought I ought to give you something in return. Don’t be scared of the thing that’s in the brown paper bag. It’s called a Hand of Glory, and it will allow you to see in complete darkness. Might help you sneak around a bit. I have one, too, but I got this one from Aunt Bellatrix._



 

_That’s all for now. Here’s a couple snippets of the Daily Prophet about how the Muggle world is being affected by all of this. Let me know what’s going on with you. I’ve been worried sick._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_Nothing half so interesting has happened here. I’m so sorry about your father. That must be horrible. Are you able write to him? Do you know what’s going on there? I would be a wreck if it were my father._

_My mother is getting more and more scared as the war approaches. I think she can feel it in the air like I can. She lost her sister in the first one....she wonders what’s at stake this time. She caught me with the Snitch you sent me a couple years ago, and nearly had a heart attack, saying “that boy” had always had one on him. I thought she might have been talking about Harry, but she apparently meant his father. I told her I found it in the cupboard under the stairs when I went looking for my lacrosse sticks and she believed me. Thank God!_

_I’ve got nothing to report except gossip. Piers Polkiss was arrested last month. He took over our group of friends after the Dementor. Apparently, they’ve moved on from vandalism to sexual assault. I sure dodged a bullet._

_By the way....Is your Aunt Bellatrix dark haired and a little crazy looking? She’s in our papers, too! Here’s an article on the “mass breakout” from last year, telling us to look out for those that have escaped. I didn’t know she was your aunt! She’s meant to be the most dangerous one, according to the telly._

_Harry was an angry shit all summer and I’ve missed you terribly. I was inches from asking him how were you were doing, but that would’ve made things worse._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

_My first task is to kill Dumbledore. What am I going to do? Just because Father is in Azkaban doesn’t mean_ I’m _ready to take his place._

_The Dark Lord is trying to punish Father, and I’m caught in the crossfire. Professor Snape has made a vow to help me if he can, but I don’t know what he can do, honestly._

_I’m sixteen years old, Dudley. How am I supposed to kill a man? Forget that he’s the most powerful wizard of all time, next to the Dark Lord, but...killing someone. I don’t know if I can do it._

_I wonder if this is payback for all my big talk all those years..._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

Dumbledore? _He’s like a hundred years old!  Why would you need to kill him!? But more importantly, what happens if you don’t? How long do you have? Does he suspect anything?_

_Just how much power does the he have over you?_

_PS - payback is a myth. You were just a kid. An arrogant shit, maybe, but that doesn’t mean you deserve this._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_That he may be, but he’s second only to the Dark Lord in power. They called him The Only One He Ever Feared. In his younger days, Dumbledore fought and beat the then-darkest wizard around, and earned quite a few honors for it. He’s a formidable enemy. Not someone_ I _can kill, certainly._

_If I don’t...I will be killed for sure, and my family will have a significant black mark. The Noble and Ancient House of Black, indeed. I don’t know how long I have, but I can feel him in my head and he’s impatient. I didn’t know the Mark would be like this._

_My mother is a powerful Occlumens (I don’t really know how to explain Occlumency except to say that it’s the resistance of Legilimency, which is like seeing into someone’s thoughts) and has taught me how to close my mind ever since I was very little, but I don’t know if I can stand up against his entire Inner Circle._

_I’m sorry to be treating you like a diary, I’m sure you have more to worry about than me._

 

_Dear Draco,_

_No, you’re welcome to treat me like a diary. I’m not much help but I’d like to hear what you’re going through. Someone who listens and understands, you know? It’s important. If I couldn’t talk to you about this stuff, I think I would go crazy._

_If it goes wrong, I have a cupboard under my stairs and lots and lots of protection on my house._

_On another note, I was at the gym today and this guy was watching me weight train. I could feel eyes on me, and I was scared we’d been found out and it was someone from your world come to kill me, but it turned out he just wanted my number. I was already panicked and just told him I was taken. Does that make me crazy?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_If it goes wrong, the journey from Hogwarts to your house would be the least of my worries. But thank you. I wish I could more than you know._

_The only friend I have here is not even alive, and even Myrtle only listens to me whine because she thinks I’m hot. (She's the ghost in the girl's lav...I became friends with her a joke.) Somehow,  it only makes me miss you more. (Is it weird that I miss you if I’ve never met you?)_

_Myrtle’s pretty annoying, but she’s not as bad as bloody Pansy, who thinks that just because we’re prefects together, that we should date like the other Prefect pairs do. I want her to go_ _away_ _._

_A guy tried to ask you out, huh?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I’m laughing out loud over your letter. Maybe you if you fuck up really badly, she’ll go away. Tell her she looks fat or something. Girls hate that._

_Yes, a guy asked me out. I wonder if the queer is written on my forehead or if he was just taking a random chance._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_You were right. She did_ not _like that. It was worth the hex she cast on me (a bat-bogey hex, which is as disgusting as it sounds) for the look on her face. Maybe I’m free!_

_Well, I wouldn’t know._ _Are_ _you queer?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I think I am....but who knows? The only guy I’ve ever done anything with was this closet-case from my wrestling team who changed schools after we made out in the shower. I’ve never said that out loud before. It happened last year. I think I liked him, but I didn’t really know._

_You don’t...mind, do you? Think I’m gross or something? How does the wizarding world treat that sort of thing?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Of course I don’t mind. Why would I mind? You’re my best friend. You know waaaay worse than that about me. Ever hear anything about the closet case after he moved? (It’s so strange to me that you can just...change schools...in your world. There’s only Hogwarts, here. If you live in England and have wizard blood, you go to Hogwarts.)_

_It’s complicated, the queer thing. I’m a Pureblood and since my family is so old on both sides, there’s lots of rules of conduct, so to speak. I am expected to pass on the bloodline with a respectable Pureblood girl, but I think I’m pretty much allowed to do whatever I want until then. I don’t know about the wizarding world at large._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_People from your Ministry came today to tell us if something goes wrong, we might have to be moved for our own safety. We’re not part of this. This isn’t our fight. My father blames Harry, but that’s a veiled way of blaming my mum. Mum blames herself. I just want it to go away._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I almost got an innocent girl killed. This has to stop sometime, doesn’t it?_

_The necklace idea I got from Professor Snape backfired and a Gryffindor girl got her hands on it and I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t. If I run fast enough, do you think I could get safely to your world?_

_No. I couldn't. That’s ridiculous. Even if I got away (and it’s a big If), he’d kill my parents, and probably my school friends, too._

_The Gryffindor girl is going to fine, I’ve heard, but I can’t even believe how out of hand this has gotten. I need a new idea and I need it now. Maybe I don’t actually have to kill him if I can get the rest of the Inner Circle into the castle somehow? How do you feel about that?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_Mrs. Figg gave me this today. It’s a stone with a hole in it. They’re supposed to be good for bad things. I put it on a chain so you can wear it under your robes. If it helps a curse miss you or something...well, I hope it works._

_How_ do _curses work? If it’s cast on you, does it automatically affect you, or can you jump out of the way?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Thank you. I will wear it constantly. (I hope it helps, too. I nearly got into a duel with your cousin today... It would’ve gone south pretty quickly.) There’s something I want you to have, too, but it’s at home, so you’ll have to wait until Easter._

_I went to another one of Slughorn’s parties tonight. Honestly, the only reason I went was for the meat pies. (This one has a preservation spell on it. Should be fine to eat if I did it right!) Amazing right?_

_You can dodge curses, but not charms. I’m not sure exactly what the difference is, but they feel different, somehow. When you cast them, and receive them._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_People are watching our house now and I don’t know whose side they’re on. I don’t know whose side I’M on. Harry’s on one side (but so were his parents, and they’re dead), and you’re on the other. The Order wants to protect us, but who knows if that’s what’s right?_

_I want to talk to my parents about it, but they both avoid the subject as much as humanly possible. How can someone as smart as my father pretend this isn’t happening? The Order of the Phoenix (Dumbledore’s group?) doesn’t seem to want to listen to us, just “instruct” us._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_The Dark Lord wants to eradicate your kind. It’s okay to take the Order’s stance on this. I want to ask which Order members have been in contact with you, but I’m afraid that a) you’ll think I’m using you for information or b) Snape or the Dark Lord will get wind that I’m in contact with someone so close to Harry Potter._

_He’s getting more and more impatient. I’m too young for this. I don’t want to die. Even more than that, I don’t want to be their pawn. I don’t want to die fighting for something I don’t believe in. I don’t think wizards should be a pure race. I’m a pureblood, but that doesn’t mean I think we should commit genocide._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I could never think you’re using me for information, although that’s what Mrs. Figg seems to think every time I use her owl. Crazy old bitch. (I shouldn’t say that. She does quite a bit for me. You know, not telling my parents and shit.)_

_You won’t die as their pawn. You have your own beliefs and they can’t change them. I believe in you, Dray._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_In between all of this, I apparently have a secret admirer. Can you believe it? Someone is crazy enough to be in love with THIS mess. I’m losing hair from stress, and I look like a greyfaced skeleton who hasn’t slept since September (which is more or less true.) I snap at everyone more than I did before and I’m generally...not desirable. Which is why this is scaring me. If Myrtle were alive, my money’d be on her, but I can’t think of who else it could be, now that Pansy hates me._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_You have an admirer? Are you getting notes, or what? Draco, honestly, why WOULDN’T you have one? Those surface things don’t matter. Maybe whoever sent it knows the real you._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_It’s actually freaking me out. I’m starting to overthink this... I got a huge thing of red roses in the breakfast post on Valentine’s Day. (Valentine’s Day is bloody torture, I cannot STAND the holiday.)_

_The roses are making my head hurt. I’m half convinced bloody omniscient Dumbledore knows what I’m trying to do, and sent them to gloat or something. This is making me crazy. Am I going crazy??? I’m overthinking EVERYTHING now, and I can’t just have fun with this like a normal teenager.... Something as simple and ridiculous as these roses is freaking me out._

_Maybe it means Dumbledore wants to strike first...._

_I want literally any other life._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t Dumbledore!_ I _sent the bloody roses, paid a friend of Mrs. Figg's, who gives me a different name every time we meet, to send them from Hogsmead (Hogsmeade? Hogs Mead?) I thought it’d make you HAPPY for a few minutes. I wanted to make you_ _less_ _stressed, not more._

_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to add more to your plate._

_S_ _peaking of your plate, any new ideas on accomplishing your task? I had a thought you might be interested in._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_If you’d just_ _signed_ _the bloody roses like a normal person, I could’ve been this happy_ _last week_ _! I was grinning so much at breakfast, Pansy asked if I’d finally got round the bend. (I despise her. I really do.)_

_Short of making an appointment in his office and challenging the most skilled duelist and most powerful wizard alive...I’ve got nothing. What’ve you got?_

 

_PS- Don’t you have more important things to worry about on Valentine’s day? Girls? Boys? Friends? Something?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_You sound like my mother. Can’t I be content with the four people at school who don’t actually hate me, and with you? Why do I need a girlfriend? Why does everyone keep asking me this?_

_Have you thought about Muggle poison? It wouldn’t be detected by your sensors. I could get you some._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Tell me everything you can about the Muggle poison. You might be my last hope. (As usual.)_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_This is called arsenic. It should be properly poisonous if he drinks enough of it. Just pour it into some of his food...or send him some nice wine. (Do wizards have even_ _have_ _wine? What do you even drink? Can you get drunk?)_

_The old fashioned apothecary in London doesn’t sell arsenic, which I only found out after I asked for some and got a look from the shopkeeper like he wanted to call the police. I finally ordered it off the internet. Thank God for dial-up._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Thank you so much for the poison. I appreciate you risking your arse for me more than you know._

_Pansy Parkinson asked me out again today. I almost hit her, I was so mad. Can’t she see that I have more important things going on? How can she think NOW is the time for this? She’s frivolous and petty and what was I thinking when I became friends with her all those years ago?_

_Yes, we can get drunk. We have firewhiskey, which is fantastic. Blaise always gets it for our celebrations after Quidditch matches, which is quite nice. What do you have?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_No offense, but your Pansy Parkinson sounds like an awful bitch. (I’ve thought this since the beginning.)_

_We’ve got all sorts of alcohol. I personally like gin and tonic. It’s kinda smooth and burn-y at the same time. I’ve never gotten_ really _drunk, but I used to get buzzed with Piers and them. When all of this ends, I’ll take you to a proper nightclub, get you some fancy Muggle drinks._

_By the way, Mrs. Figg stopped letting me use her owl, but she got me one (and gypped me on the exchange rates!!!) This is Gaiman. I had to tell my mother I broke my motorbike to get the money. This is the first time I’ve outright_ lied _to her since the whole thing began._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Your plan was flawless...except that it ended up in the wrong hands. Of COURSE Weasley would get it. OF COURSE Potter would save him. Nothing happens to anyone in this school but those damn three, right?_

_Apparently, it ended up in bloody Slughorn’s hands. Apparently, his love of fine-ly bred people extends to fine wine._

_What am I going to do?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I’m sorry it didn’t work. But you can’t pretend you don’t feel a stab of relief. I believe in you more than anything....and it’s not that I believe you can’t do this. I believe you can’t do it without feeling the repercussions. Emotionally, I mean. After the dementor attack, every bad thing I’ve ever done came crashing down on me. You don’t want this...do you?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_No. I don’t want this. But he’ll kill me and my mother if I don’t. I have to prioritize her, if not myself._

_And besides, who would get you through the war if I were dead?_

_That was my mal-attempt at humour. Pretend it made you laugh and laugh and laugh. (I would like to hear you laugh.)_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I don’t do much laughing lately, that’s for sure._

_I will support whatever decision you make, about Dumbledore. Not that there is one, really. Sucks, doesn’t it, being trapped in a war you have nothing to do with... We’re two sides of the same coin, aren’t we? I’m here for you. No matter what. We’ve got to be each other’s number one, and you’re mine._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Sometimes anything more than “thank you” looks dumb on paper. So thank you._

_I’m thinking my old idea of just letting the rest of the Circle into the castle, rather than doing it myself was a good one. You think?_

_Dear Draco,_

_Everything I write looks dumb on paper. I’m glad to have found the one person in the world desperate enough to like my letters. (Ha.)_

_Yes. You won’t have the blood on your hands, you know? I’d infinitely rather have you only responsibility for the circumstances in which a man was killed than actually killing him._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I’ve been checking every INCH of the castle for somewhere the protection spells are even slightly weaker than the rest, but the construction seems flawless. Damn the Founders. Damn Snape for trying to stop me. Damn this entire school._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_What about your room of lost things? Could there be a glitch there?_

_Speaking of strong structures, I know how much protection my house has on it, and I know that locking the doors wouldn’t stop a wizard for a second and I STILL lock the front door like seventeen times a night. Sometimes I just want to feel useful._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Dumbledore is dead, and I wasn’t the one to do it. That cowardly excuse for a mentor_ Snape _did it! And he was supposed to be in the Order! (I guess he was just proving his loyalty? I could feel his double-agent act slipping so much that_ I _didn’t even know where he stood.) I’m sorry for the rambling. I’m still dealing with the Battle that happened at the castle today. Half of his army came to fight...students. And I let them in. How could I be so stupid?_

_The Order showed up, of course, but there were so many little kids watching the fighting.... I wanted to hide in the dungeons, or in my room of lost things. But I fought, because all eyes were on me._

_Funny how I’m supposed to be indignant that my work was done for me and all I can feel is so damn_ grateful _that I wasn’t the one to kill him. I can’t even pretend otherwise. Professor Snape saved my ass in so many ways and I owe him so much. As for the Dark Lord, I’m angry, now, I’m not scared. Kill me, My Lord, or don’t, but I don’t want to play your game anymore...._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I confess, I sobbed over your last letter. What is going to happen to you and your family, now that you’ve failed in your task? You weren’t stupid, by the way. You were incredibly brave to resist what he wanted you to do. I wouldn’t have chosen that._

_(I wish I could be with you now more than ever. I wouldn’t be much use (in fact, a liability in many ways), but perhaps we would fare better together._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I believe my family is out of the woods for the time being. We’re such a small part of the war that’s raging on now._

_My letters are going to be few and far between this summer. Death Eaters will be in and out of my home (it’s more or less our side’s headquarters) for the foreseeable future. Even with all the protection spells I put on both of our letters, it’s not safe._ _If Hogwarts even reopens in September, we’ll resume our correspondence then. I’m sorry. This may be the hardest thing for me._

  
***

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I’m back at Hogwarts, and only slightly less terrified than last year. The one good thing is that we can write again. I’m going to tell you everything, in the hopes that we can make up some lost ground._

_I put this letter under extra protection so I can tell you everything that’s been going on. My father is out of Azkaban and back home again, quiet and subdued, but alive. Somehow, this doesn’t make me feel any safer in our home, with the Inner Circle moving in and out as freely as the Dark Lord himself. In my father’s absence, all illusions of the privacy of a once-prominent family had fallen. He doesn’t have the power or the will to find them a new headquarters._

_The Dementors are on our side, just loose around the whole country.  It’s making me nervous and itchy, more than I would be normally. There’s word of werewolves and giants, too, but I don’t know how much of that is true. It might be Order propaganda. The Dark Lord and hsi right hand - my Aunt Bellatrix - don’t confirm or deny the rumors._

_He’s taken over the entire Ministry. The idiot Yaxley is formally in charge, but he’s  an Imperiused puppet. (One of the Unforgivable curses, it means the Dark Lord is controlling his every move.) My aunt is picking enemies off one by one  - torturing them, of course. Half-bloods are registering their blood and Mudbloods are being persecuted. Snape’s in charge at Hogwarts, which is the only positive development of the summer._

_Please don’t hold this summer against me. Tell me everything. Please._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_Thank God! Regular letters so I know you’re not dead! What a fucking marvel! Now I don’t have to spend nights alone in my new house where we’ve been relocated going mad wondering if you’re being tortured somewhere!_

_We were moved to bloody Leeds. I had to leave the house I’ve lived in all my life, uproot, and go to bloody Leeds! And bloody Dedalus Diggle and bloody fucking Hestia Jones live in my bloody house, “protecting us.” We’ve all got a thousand charms on us everywhere we go. Maybe that’s why no one at my new school wants to talk to me. (Can magic do that?)_

_I hated going through this shit alone._

_It’s stupid, but I lived in that house my whole life. I miss Privet Drive and I miss the way things used to be and I miss the privacy of breakfast without Order members breathing in our food...though they do have daily copies of both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler. Dedalus and Hestia aren’t such bad sorts, really, even if they are...weird. Hestia has a room down the hall from me where she keeps plants in boots on the windowsill._

_School is hell, but that’s no change._

_I’ve missed you._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_No one at school seems to want to talk to me either. Crabbe and Goyle are about it, and they’re not overly interesting. Blaise and Pansy decided not to come back, and everyone else is either scared of me because I’m a goddamned Death Eater, or because their parents spent the summer in and out of my house._

_About half of the students didn’t return this year. How fucked is that?_

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_If I send you a novel, will you read it? I had to read this for class a few years ago... I pulled it out again, while I was packing for Leeds, and all I could think of was you. I cried in the back of the car, on the way here, rereading it. Mummy thought I was crying because of having to leave, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t. She cries when I cry, and I all could think was how she was crying over you with me, and how horrified she’d been if she knew._

_Dad’s hands on the steering wheel were shaking. He’s falling apart, so is my mother, and neither of them are talking about it. They don’t want me to know. But I know. He thinks this is all her fault. She can’t argue with that._

_It’s weird, it reminded me of when Harry got the letter that told him he was going to his school, and Dad turned into a nutter. The more he tried to keep the letters from coming, the more came. At one point, he took us out to this shack on an island in the middle of the Channel, and this giant bloke tracked us down and gave me a pig’s tail. (Literally! A pig’s tail! I was very scared, but also a bit excited. Who else had been given a pig’s tail by a wizard before? Anything that upset my parents was, at this point, quite exciting.)_

_Anyway, The more Dad resists, the more shit comes down on our heads._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_It’s funny how we still have classes while all of us are scared stiff. Most of us who are here have parents on one side or the other, and the halls of the school have never been less safe; yet, I still have homework. A three foot essay on the goblin wars of 794? There’s a real war going on! (And a Quidditch match I need to practice for, thank you very much Professor Binns!)_

_We’re learning Unforgivable Curses in Dark Arts class, taught by the Carrows, a couple of loyal slackers the Dark Lord couldn’t trust with much. He put them at Hogwarts to keep them quiet, because neither could handle a big ministry job. There are three main Unforgivable Curses..._

 

_Dear Draco,_

_I can’t relate to that, but it’s a very strange parallel that I still have classes at my new school, and nobody around is aware of_ _anything_ _that’s going on._

_It’s an unfamiliar school, far away from home, and the kids go to class laughing and talking like people aren’t being killed, like there isn’t a war on, like my mother isn’t always looking over her shoulder when she’s able to go out at all, like she doesn’t stay in bed some days paralyzed with fear that we might not make through the day, like I don’t live in fear that I’ll be killed, or you will._

_I’m so scared, Dray. I read the Daily Prophet every morning, now, and I am constantly scanning, terrified that I might see your name under the deceased...I couldn’t handle that. (Your death would still be reported, right?)_

_PS- Who the hell measures essays in FEET_!?

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_It’s been clear from the beginning, slotted, that we are going to lose. Even if I survive, I will have no place among the people my family has tortured...among the people_ I _have tortured. Sometimes I get mad at my younger self for being so arrogant and eager to please. I hope you haven’t kept those letters...you probably bore the brunt of my fourth year arrogance. My parents haven’t come to grips with our loss yet, but the Dark Lord is nowhere near as powerful as the people he’s keeping down._

_When it all ends, when the rest of my world is back to normal, when it’s safe again to walk the streets, will you teach me how to live in your world? We can get a flat together and be free from all this. It’s funny, imagining this....I’ve still never seen my best friend’s face._

_Dear Draco,_

 

_If I make myself believe that you are as in love with you as I am with you, which, some nights lying awake and listening to Dedalus and Hestia argue outside my window, I can, I can take myself away from all of this._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_When my aunt Andromeda fell in love with a Muggleborn wizard, twenty years ago, she was burned off my family tree with a nasty curse that affected all the tapestries of its kind in every home of every member of her family._

_You are a muggle, Undesirable Number One’s cousin, and a current charge of the Order of the Phoenix, not to mention male._

_I can’t wait to hear the singe on the tapestry, watch the angry black burn spread outwards._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_Please tell me that’s a yes._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_Was there a doubt in your mind? I love you. I’ll shout it from the rooftops. Or, I would, if the castle weren’t under such protection. You’ve gotten me through this war, and I am so grateful to you. You’re my best friend, confidant, and the only one I’ve allowed myself to trust since this war began._

_I am a Death Eater, technically, and you are under the protection of the top enemy of my people, and I would be dead before I got to hold you in my arms, but if I weren’t, and you weren’t, I would come for you right now._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_This is the happiest I’ve been in months, which is foolish. Mummy thinks I’ve met a girl at school. She has so little to hang onto, I tell her she’s right._

_“Bring her home,” she says. “I want to meet her. My little boy has grown up and falling in love.” I think about saying, “Actually, Mum, it’s a boy. Also, did I mention I’ve never met him in person, and he’s part of the group of extremists who want to kill us?”_

_I love you._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I want you to hear this from me first._

_Your cousin and his best friends were escorted to my house today. I didn’t identify him, I promise, but there was a scuffle. His friend was badly beaten, but Potter made it out okay, or so the Dark Lord says._

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry to have been involved. For all our rivalry, I’ve never wanted him dead. And he’s not, I promise. Until his fate was in my hands, I never realized how our destinies are the same. I’ve no right to hate him for fulfilling or fighting anything expected of him._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_I believe you. Thank you for telling me. They gave us an account of what happened. By our rules, he’s still my parent’s charge for a few more months. (we’re legal at 18 here, not 17, as Daedalus explained.), and they’re doing a good job of respecting our customs, even if I forget to appreciate it sometimes._

_Is he going to die, Draco?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_I took your question to Professor Snape. His office as Headmaster is grander than when he was Potions Master, but he still keeps it ice cold. I cannot look him in the eye, after last year. He gave up everything, and I am beginning to realize that he did it for me._

_He said yes._

_He said it had always been Dumbledore’s plan for Potter to die._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_Hestia and I agreed that I don’t have the right to mourn Harry, after years of abuse. Frankly, neither do you. But I hope, when this is all over, you and I can grieve together._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_When I feel numb to tragedy, I force myself to imagine the day all of this ends, and you and I can be together. In my daydreams, our meeting is always in a nightclub somewhere. Everyone else is blurry, but you.... (I still don’t know what you look like, by the way. Your years of avoidance of my asking for a picture have been successful.) Anyways, in the daydream, we lock eyes from across the room and know instantly, even without knowing what the other looks like, that we’ve found what we’ve been looking for. Something inside of me clicks into place. Everything seems so calm._

_Realistically, I know there’s a lot we’re going to work out...but I hope all of that can wait until after our first moments. Whatever happens, happens after._

 

_Dear Draco,_

 

_This is my latest school picture. (My mum feels the need to buy them all. School picture day is a special kind of hell that I’m sure you don’t have. They set up the most stressful environment possible, take “formal” pictures of us and make us keep them forever no matter how bad they are.) I’m trusting that whatever fear I had of you finding out what I looked like and all of...this...dissolving was unfounded. (If not...let me off gently. Cite some other reason. Say it’s too dangerous and that you love me, but you can’t carry on.)_

_Do you have one of you?_

 

_Dear Dudley,_

 

_You’re nothing like I imagined (and incredibly gorgeous). I’m going to keep this picture on me until we finally meet, damn the consequences. This somehow makes you so much more real, although you’ve always been....I don’t know where I’m going with this. Excuse this, I’m excited to finally see you._

_My picture is, of course, moving, but it should smile for you. I would’ve sent it earlier, but I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to before you were ready._

 

_Dear Draco,_

_I had this dream last night about a long winding tunnel. It was rather boring, really, and I feel like I woke up before the end of it, but Diggle says it's a common wizarding dream. Why am I having common wizarding dreams?_  


_Mrs. Figg dropped by to see Hestia and Diggle today. She brought a radio show called_ Potterwatch  _where people try and track where Harry is. I hope they're wrong, though. Some of the places - mostly dark forests - seem dead depressing. Dad thought it was a load of rot, but that's how feels about most things. How are you holding up in Dark Arts class?_

_I love you._

 

_Dear Dudley,_

_Potter's coming. The Dark Lord is getting excited. It will all end tonight, one way or the other. The fight will be huge, and if I don't make it, I want you to try and get in with the Wizarding community anyway. Hang out with Hestia and Diggle. You said Hestia has a son our age? Don't stay with your parents, you're better than that. I love you. Whatever happens tonight. Wish me luck._

_  
Dear Dudley,_

_It's over. I don't have the energy to write it all down now - I'm shaking - but all is well. Potter's side won. It's possible my family will be thrown into Azkaban, and it's possible Hogwarts will be shut down forever and it's definite that everything is going to change._

_I want to tell you everything in person. I need to see you. Give me a time and a place. Anywhere. I need to see you. I need to know that that there' s a world outside of this. Crabbe is dead, and my father is hurt and my mother might have saved Potter's life and I can't breathe and I need to tell you everything. Reply as soon as you can. I'm sending my owl, Hempstock. She'll find me, wherever I end up in the next few hours._

_I love you._

 

_Dear Draco,_

_It's over. Wow. I'm shaking, too. Hestia came back from the Battle, and recounted some of it. I can't believe it. (By the way, your mother.... wow.)_

_I'm so so sorry about Crabbe. I hope you didn't have to see it. I'm on my way to London, I told my parents weeks ago that I was going to stretch my legs for a few weeks as soon as the War was over....is the War over?_

_I'll be at the Moon Cat nightclub at ten pm tomorrow - Saturday - if you want to meet me there. It's on Charterhouse street, and doesn't card. I can't wait to see you. (I can't believe I'm writing those words.)_

_See you soon._

 

_***_

 

The music, which is a loose term for the pounding Draco can’t escape, is nearly overpowering. The crowd, made up of mainly scantily-clad and very loud twenty-somethings, is much too close to him, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent too sober for this.

 He makes his way over to what seems to be the dirty bar counter. “Sick tat!” the bartender yells over the music, and gestures to Draco’s forearm. He shudders, and pulls his sleeve down.

 He tries very hard now to doubt his still-absent boyfriend. _There’s no way he’s not coming...right?_

 “What can I get you?” the bartender again yells, and Draco yells back, “A firewhiskey, please!”

 “A what?” the bartender replies, confused.

 This blasted world didn’t even have firewhiskey! He’d never thought how to order a drink here. “Never mind,” he says, dejectedly. _Don’t have muggle money to pay for it, anyway. What am I doing here?_

 Disheartened, his steps away from the counter and finds a corner, thinking not for the first time that he’s only ever seen one picture of Dudley, and isn’t confident in his ability to pick him out of the loud, drunk, continually shifting crowd, let alone in this dimply lit room. Anxiety builds in his chest. _What am I doing here?_

 “Excuse me, sir,” says a low, slow voice from behind Draco. “But I think the love of your life is looking for you.”

 Draco turns to see a gigantic boy of about eighteen, at least 6’2” to Draco’s 5’9”. He’s smiling, though, grinning as if he’s just found what he’s been looking for his whole life.

 That was his Dudley, alright. Draco could feel it.

 Merlin’s _balls._

 “H-hi,” he manages, overwhelmed. This is the love of his life. Every worry he’s ever had about this meeting is flashing across his mind.

 “You look miserable. Wanna get out of here?” Dudley asks, still smiling.

 “Please,” Draco answers, and Dudley ( _holyshitsholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit! He’s actually HERE!)_ takes his arm, and leads him through a side door into the warm June evening.

 Under a street lamp, they’re finally able to study each other fully. Dudley’s huge, but undoubtedly gorgeous. His kind blue eyes are looking at Draco with such love... Overcome, suddenly, Draco holds down a sob. Dudley had gotten him through _so much._ They had shared the horror of the last few years together. They knew everything about each other, but this...this felt so alien.

 Dudley reaches forward, unsure, and Draco falls against him, and there, under the streetlight outside the ghastly muggle nightclub, their worlds collide. The kiss is everything Draco wanted, and seems to complete a part of him that’s been empty for far too long.

 “I can’t believe you’re here,” Dudley whispers, when they finally break apart.

 “I know,” he whispers back.

 “You wanna get some coffee or something, or, I, uh, thought maybe we’d dance, but I think we need to talk instead.” Funny how Dudley seems as unsure as Draco feels.

Draco answers with a soft kiss. He doesn’t really want to think about what happened the night before, he’s not sure he’ll be ready to talk about it for a few raw days, at least, but coffee. With Dudley. He could handle that.  “Yes.”

There are more questions than answers under this streetlight, there are a thousand questions to answer and a thousand plans to make and wounds to heal, but that can all start tomorrow. Right now, Dudley tastes like sweat and alcohol and _home_ and he’s HERE and Draco’s sure that if he ever smelled brewing amortenia again in his life, it would smell like this moment.

  



End file.
